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In this Finish the Story posted by @bananafish the great storyteller @tristancarax has written the beginning of the story and we, the contestant, are tasked with finishing it with a 500 word limit. The link to the original post is here.

Hunt More Precious than a Green Stone

by @tristancarax

I watched Belinda getting onto the cable car that was headed up the hill. Quickly, I ran and jumped onto the back as the cable car began to pull away.

I would have had trouble with the ticket agent if it wasn’t for the gun in my hand and the badge on my belt. He backed off with a quiet stare. Following my gaze, he was bewitched by Belinda’s beauty. He darted after me. She had this effect on men of weak mind. I would have fallen off if it wasn’t for the bar slamming up against my back. Tossing the man off the trolley, his body cracked and thudded as he rolled down the hill. A blood-soaked street ...

I turned my attention back to Belinda. Fuck! She’d vanished. That fucking prick! I’d been hunting down this woman for weeks with no luck. I’d have no clue as to where to scour next if it wasn’t for the letter I found at my feet addressed to me.

It was 3 a.m. when I arrived back to my flea-infested motel. A new record for me as the days without sleep turned into weeks of nightmares. Insomnia is a bitch.

The Captain at the precinct had kept me longer than expected. He was viscerally upset when my employer had spoken to him over the phone. ”What do you mean ‘set him free?’” the captain protested. ”This man of yours just killed a man, for no apparent reason, with a slew of witnesses around,” his voice rose a little louder, becoming squeaker, ”and I’m to let him go?” His eyes darted in my direction. I saw him about to crack. ”What am I supposed to tell the press?” My employer ensured him that he’d take care of the press if the precinct did its job and labelled the body bag with the tag ”DNI” (Do not investigate).

Reluctantly, the Captain released me. My employer had ties to power most would never dare touch. Those who dared to challenge him were usually found with a couple missing body parts in the middle of town or possibly at the bottom of a flight of stairs. ”Unsolved” murder/suicides were abound. This place was beyond crooked.

I sat down on the bed. I finally had time to get to the letter I’d hidden in my trench coat pocket that was hidden beneath a pocket. This pocket had saved a few useful items in the past when I’d gotten into trouble for the blatant disregard for life.

Other than the obvious clue ”Addressed to you, Detective,” she had left a kiss mark, formed from the blue lipstick she wore.

I slapped my neck. ”Fucking fleas!”

Opening the letter, I read:

Dear Detective,

I know why you don't sleep at night. I've watched you in your half-hazy sleep toss and turn. Yes, I've done my research. You thought I didn't know about you? No matter.

Pay attention.

Your awakening is coming. You first have to chase this mouse a few more times around the block before your mind will be free enough to see that the shadow and the light cannot be without the other.

You have been to the Garden. Follow the smell. Seek the maid who is more precious than a green stone.

Your employer is banking on the life you've lead up until this very moment.

A sweet kiss, Detective.

There was a knock at my door.

The ending by @blueeyes8960:

“Oh hell no”, I thought tiredly as I rose and put my eye up to the filthy spy hole in the flimsy door. There was no one on the other side but there was a rotten odor like a festering wound seeping under the door. My mind flashed back to the last time I’d encountered this smell, which was the first time I’d met my employer. Somebody’s not happy that I lost Belinda’s trail today. The door blew inward, pushing me backwards into the dreary room.

I awoke just as the morning sun was burning through the flimsy curtains, still on the floor where I had been thrown. Getting up slowly, feeling sticky residue on my clothes, and smelling a lingering hint of rotting flesh, I made my way to the stained wash basin. Using the sliver of hard soap and a thin rough washcloth I cleaned up, took a piss, and went in search of coffee. Trained undercover super spy that I am, I noticed right away that my mysterious letter from Blue Lips was gone off the cheap desk and in its place sat a dull green stone. Something clicked in my mind, memories coming back to me from what had happened last night. The stone beckoned to me and as soon as I touched it, it began pulsing, like a beacon. I remembered that the half man-half demon sent by my employer last night had told me that when I had Belinda (only in the minion’s telepathic message it came out as whore-to-the-enemy) in my custody the stone would lead me back to the Garden. Time was running out. There would be no more failures tolerated.

I nestled the stone in my shirt pocket and headed to the greasy spoon connected to this flea bag motel. The tired eyed waitress with the big ass came over to the counter and raised one eyebrow and said “The usual?”

“Nah, princess, today I’ll have the caviar and truffles.” I quipped. She shook her head and trudged off to pour me a cup of the black sludge that passed for coffee around here. I was just finishing my short stack and limp bacon when that rotten flesh smell wafted in the front door. Before the thing had a chance to get in the door, a woman in the booth behind me grabbed my arm and pulled me up. “Hurry, we have to get out of here now!” I was astonished to see under the curly black wig that it was Belinda who had me by the arm.

“What the fuck? I’m supposed to be finding YOU!” I cried as we both bolted down the narrow aisle and out the back door. It was then I felt the stone in my pocket heating up and starting to pulse. Belinda looked at it with a tight little smile, “The beacon is on now, we have to lose the swamp monster and get into the Garden before your employer destroys the World."